


A gaping maw

by Anonymous



Category: Euostrath's Descent
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:07:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26294608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Like a new-born mortal though, Nyleein wanted to devour all that was new to him to learn what was his to consume; what would taste like penalty; what would delightfully fill his hollow core with a newfound syrupy burning sensation. He who is holy knows consumption is not only a tool, it is a vice -- a vice that shows those who dare to look, what makes him weak.
Relationships: Iketasos/Nyleein
Kudos: 1
Collections: anonymous





	A gaping maw

_ “He is not hungry. He eats.”- Drew _

  
  
  
  


Even divinity is not free from the molten chains of hunger, of the ceaseless desires for power, title, and supremacy. Or, perhaps something more base like (blind) love in the form of devotion. 

For the Euostrath of Fate, Nyleein salivates for the masochistic brand of punishment. In the eyes and hearts of the wicked, it is the only proper treatment for a frothing beast who knows only how to snarl and claw (sometimes, he can't tell where the truth and untruth lay in that judgment). The caged tiger in the Euostrath thrashes against the bars of a cold cruel weakened material form, where needs or wants are nothing more than inconveniences. Or so Nyleein thinks to make that self-flagellation all that much sweeter (and oh, how he has always had an affinity for all that is saccharine). 

Sweetness is his weakness, frankly. 

Iketasos is the very pleasurable melting of sugar personified. They are as tempting as a dollop of hard honey to a child; Nyleein is no mortal but he knows he is better than a child in resisting  _ his _ temptations. But of course, it's been too long since the God has had the taste of that which delights his senses. When the cosmic phantom offered moments of respite to him (eating trivial pastries they often were), Nyleein had to relearn the flavor of this sweetness that he missed (he would never confess this). 

Like a new-born mortal though, Nyleein wanted to devour all that was new to him to learn what was his to consume; what would taste like penalty; what would delightfully fill his hollow core with a newfound syrupy burning sensation. He who is holy knows consumption is not only a tool, it is a vice -- a vice that shows those who dare to look, what makes him  _ weak _ . Weaknesses are not befitting for a Euostrath and this verse of preaching is bitter to the mind. Bitterness is what Nyleein has digested for countless years so, with the served dish that is Iketasos, he finds himself caught up in their layered affections like alluring fresh cakes on a plate. However, too many cakes or creams will fill the stomach up with ill-feelings. 

What the Euostrath feels for Iketasos will  _ never _ be ill (that, he will confess). 

To be made is to be devoured. Nyleein has helped make Iketasos but he could not devour until the caged beast inside of him finally ate their perfected honeyed actions (it couldn't stop eating and Nyleein didn't want it to stop). For a celestial as old as he, the Euostrath knows that love is an all-consuming thing. As the poets would describe it:  _ love is the desire to eat and be eaten, perpetually _ . Love in the tongue of a gaping maw is the concoction of the base wants of the flesh; of the need to be known and desired. What has Iketasos  _ done  _ to make him gluttonous? Or perhaps lustful, once Nyleein has sunk his fangs into their flesh. Gluttony and lust were always like jam and butter anyway. 

Nyleein has found his hands sticky slick with evidence of an unrelenting appetite. With his eyes now back, he wants to dine on the sight of their coy smiles and burning halo eyes. With his hands now feeling, he wants to swallow their own hands to wordlessly declare to them his trove of promises. It wasn't long before the holy one wanted to rid himself of such a revered adjective in order to plunge himself wholly in his beloved's form. The wet sounds of his mouth on theirs (or theirs on every part of him; it felt too good, he would begrudgingly confess) weren't anything new -- after all, they had already eaten with each other so many times and heard such consuming sounds. It was only time before they ate each other physically or otherwise.

Gods don't hunger but this one now does and he eats; he will continue to eat and he will abstain no longer. 


End file.
